Even a Tyrant Can Feel Jealousy
Even a Tyrant Can Feel Jealousy
As soon as I received Ruamel's salute, I demanded an explanation from her, and after about 30 minutes of conversation, I was able to obtain quite a lot of new information.
First, the 16th Special Battalion is a unit that trains maids or servants who possess a certain level of martial prowess.
In other words, to put it simply, it's a military academy exclusively for commoners.
And second.
Ruamel graduated as the valedictorian of the 570th class from the Archecium Military Academy, which is notoriously difficult for even the average noble child of the Empire to enter, having been accepted through a special admission track for commoners.
Lastly, the third and most surprising thing was that she is a high-level Aura user.
'If she were a man instead of a woman, or a noble instead of a commoner, she would have the skills to be the captain of a high-ranking noble family's knight order.'
Having finished organizing my thoughts, I let out a genuinely pure exclamation and clapped my hands.
"I already thought it was amazing enough that you always tell me everything I'm curious about, but Ruamel, you're an incredible powerhouse. You're truly impressive."
At my sincere praise, a very subtle change appeared on Ruamel's face, which usually maintained a blank expression.
Embarrassment? Or perhaps trying to hide her awkwardness, she let out a small cough and turned her head slightly toward the corner of the table.
"Ahem, it was all possible thanks to Belletria-nim's trivial considerations. If she hadn't bestowed precious elixirs upon me and personally refined a customized swordsmanship style just for me... it would have all been impossible for someone of commoner origin like me."
A humble attitude that attributed her own talent and blood-sweating efforts entirely to the Empress.
That appearance made me think she was even more amazing.
"If you're someone she keeps by her side to that extent, surely you must know all about her pain and past wounds, right?"
The terrible truth of 13 years ago that I had clearly witnessed in the underground prison before.
Losing her family and coming to hate the world.
Keeping the side of a tyrant suffering from the curse of distrust for a whopping 15 years was not something that could be proven by mere martial prowess alone.
"And yet, the fact that she keeps Ruamel in the closest place... doesn't that mean Ruamel is here today because Her Majesty trusts you that much?"
At my confident observation, Ruamel just flinched slightly without saying anything in particular.
It seemed she herself admitted that it wasn't exactly wrong.
Ruamel no longer made excuses with words of humility.
She, who had been quietly fiddling with the rim of her teacup, soon faced me and just offered a slightly awkward, faint smile.
A very human and warm smile.
That awkward smile perfectly substituted for an affirmative answer.
With this, the last question that had been hovering in my mind was resolved without a trace.
"Anyway, now that I know Ruamel's skills for sure, I'll have to make time to spar with you separately in the future, if only to satisfy Belletria-nim even more."
The afternoon schedule, the lecture by the Imperial Chief Mage, was right around the corner.
I straightened my disheveled shirt collar and gave a playful, eye-smiling look.
"Well then, I'll be going now. Adjutant."
After deliberately creating a light atmosphere by calling her by her military rank instead of her name, I left the tea table first with a much lighter step and moved on.
The Magic Tower, where the empire's mages reside, arrived at after about 10 minutes of travel from the Sun Garden.
As expected of the place where all the most outstanding mages of the empire gather, the entrance was unusual.
Unique-looking artifacts floating in mid-air, and thick parchment books turning their own pages were the first things to catch my attention.
The mages didn't even spare a glance despite me, an outsider, entering.
Each of them was either writing complex formulas in the air or staring at the magical flames gathered at their fingertips, only obsessively focused on their own magic manifestation.
'As expected of a group that lives solely for magic.'
I started climbing the narrow spiral staircase, being careful not to get lost.
And exactly 10 floors up.
To me, who wasn't a knight training my body but someone who just stayed holed up in a detached palace reading books, climbing 10 flights of stairs without a single magic-operated elevator was a terrible ordeal.
"Huff... huff..."
I rested my hands on my knees, gasping for air, and barely managed to exhale the breath that had risen to my chin.
The inside of my shirt was already damp with sweat.
The end of the hallway, reached by dragging my trembling legs.
In front of the firmly closed, massive oak door, a small nameplate was hanging.
[Master of the Magic Tower, Zeplin Ignisys]
"Arrived."
I straightened my clothes and hair for a good final impression and knocked on the door lightly.
Knock, knock.
"This is Idelon Halden Rehentra. I have come to see the Chief Mage."
"Please, come in."
An aged and gentle voice flowed from inside.
As I carefully turned the doorknob and stepped inside, the smell of ink and the scent of old paper wafted over me.
Behind the massive mahogany desk placed in the center of the office, an old man with a long, snow-white beard was sitting.
Deep wrinkles on his face and a benevolent smile.
He was a man exuding a gentle atmosphere, like a kind-looking grandfather you could easily see on the street.
I bowed politely and offered my first greeting.
"It is an honor to receive your teachings. Chief Mage Zeplin."
"Welcome, Your Highness."
Zeplin smiled broadly and stood up from his seat.
Usually, nobles would bring out tea and drone on with boring pleasantries here, but unlike his appearance, he seemed to have a very pragmatic personality.
Instead of a teacup, he picked up a thick introductory magic book that had been on the desk and went straight to the point.
"I have heard the story from Her Majesty. Let's go straight into the lesson. Before that, I will ask one thing."
"Please, ask me anything."
"Have you ever formally learned magic?"
"Uh... um."
I scratched the back of my head and opened my mouth awkwardly.
"No. I have never learned it formally. At most, when my older brothers were being taught by the royal mages, all I did was peek over their shoulders through the library window."
Pure truth without a single exaggeration.
At my honest answer, Zeplin put down the book and slowly approached me.
At the same time, his eyes, which had looked benevolent, narrowed sharply for a moment.
Then, a faint blue light flickered deep within his pupils, and his gaze, as if piercing through something, scanned me from head to toe.
I instinctively hunched my shoulders at the sensation of my entire body being stripped bare in an instant.
A small exclamation popped out from between Zeplin's lips as he scrutinized my body for a long while.
"Ho-ho."
He stroked his beard lightly and nodded as if interested.
"For someone who only learned by peeking over shoulders... you have a quite stable Circle formed near your heart."
"Yes? A Circle?"
As I blinked, as if it were news to me, Zeplin regained his gentle smile and walked back toward the desk.
"It seems you are not without talent. You have unconsciously accepted the theory into your body and have managed to store mana."
He flicked his finger lightly, sending a piece of chalk floating in the air toward the blackboard.
"That is fortunate. There will be no need to explain the very basic stage of teaching how to feel mana."
The chalk began to slide across the blackboard by itself, drawing the shape of a complex magic circle.
Zeplin turned to look at me with his arms behind his back.
"Then, we will start the lesson immediately with the operation and manifestation of 1st Circle mana."
"I will listen attentively!"
Afterward, having enjoyed the magic lesson with Zeplin Ignisys without realizing how time was passing, I was on my way to the dining hall after leaving the Magic Tower, leaving behind the regret of wanting to acquire more knowledge.
'That was seriously awesome.'
Honestly, even though there was a request from the Empress, I hadn't expected him to teach me magic with such sincerity.
The pride and ego of the mage species are even greater than those of the Imperial Knights.
Because Zeplin was the head of the Imperial direct-controlled mages, who are said to have the strongest pride among such mages.
So I thought he would just give me a superficial, smooth-talking lesson, but he taught me everything in such detail, from the very basics, one by one.
He even taught me while wearing an expression that seemed to find me commendable, even when I kept asking annoying questions.
"Magic really is more fun."
Anyway, lost in such thoughts and ruminating on the lingering impression of the Magic Tower, I walked aimlessly and found myself at the entrance of the Imperial Palace dining hall.
The servant waiting by the door bowed politely and carefully pushed open the massive dining hall door.
And under the brilliant chandelier lighting that unfolded before my eyes, at one end of the wide dining table.
There, Belletria, who had been sitting and waiting for me with a noble posture, came into view.
She glanced at my face as I walked in through the open door and opened her mouth in her usual languid tone.
"You arrived without being late."
"Because I couldn't keep you waiting."
I also offered a good-natured smile and greeted her lightly as usual.
Then, just as I was walking to the seat opposite her to sit in the chair the servant was pulling out, and was about to lower my hips.
Clatter.
The silver fork that had been in Belletria's hand dropped onto the plate with a thud.
It was a very small sound, but it was enough to instantly freeze the air inside the dining hall.
"More than that."
"...... Yes?"
My lower body, which was just about to touch the chair, froze in an awkward position.
When I raised my head, her red eyes, which had been relaxed until just a moment ago, were now slightly sunken and piercing straight through me.
"Since our tea time a few days ago..."
"......"
A voice that was a tone lower than usual.
"I heard you've been spending personal time with Ruamel separately."
Belletria clasped her hands together on the table and leaned her upper body forward.
"May I ask what that is about?"
"Uh... yes?"